The Sectumsempra Series:Behind the Vanishing Glass
by arsenicandasylums
Summary: Draco Malfoy is spoiled, rich, and the heir to the Malfoy fortune. A magical tale of heros and villians, but which is which? This is the first installment of The Sectumsempra Series.
1. The Boy Who Lived Too

1.**_ The Boy Who Lived Too_**

_Father and Mother, and Me,  
Sister and Auntie say  
All the people like us are We,  
And every one else is They.  
And They live over the sea,  
While We live over the way,  
But-would you believe it? --They look upon We  
As only a sort of They_!

–**_Rudyard Kipling, "_**We and They"

Mr and Mrs Malfoy were proud to say they were pure-blood wizards, thank you very much. They were from a long line of pureblood old families in the Wizarding world. They were the last people you'd expect to be involved with Muggles and Mudbloods.

Mr Malfoy (to the best of anyone's knowledge) worked at the Ministry of Magic in a high ranking position that required him to do basically nothing except threaten the people underneath him and most people above him as well. He was a tall, thin man with arched features and celestial, blonde hair. Mrs Malfoy was frail, also blonde and usually wore a look of incredible distaste on her face.

It was the lost hours of a moonless June 5th that a very special event took place. A baby was born to Mr and Mrs Malfoy. Mrs Malfoy cradled the squirming infant in her arms and smiled down at it with exhausted joy. She kissed its small forehead as the doctor proclaimed him a healthy boy. His name was to be Draco Lucius Malfoy II, after his father, of course. The first born of the most powerful pure-blood Wizarding family unions in Europe, Black and Malfoy. This made Draco Malfoy very special indeed.

He lived the first year of his life in harmony at the Malfoy Manor. He played with various gold-encrusted toys which bore the Malfoy crest, cried when he should have cried, and slept when he should have slept. His parents cooed over his cradle at night, and his mother held him in her arms. It was the normal life for any baby. It all changed the next October, a yellow mooned Halloween, when whispers and rumours floated on the horizon and owls swooped down in the daylight all over London. He did not spend that night in a basket on some Muggle's front porch he spent that night in his mother's arms. His father screamed with satanic fury when he burst into the Manor. Mingled in his screams you could hear voices in the distance saying, "To Harry Potter– the boy who lived!"

No one really remembers their early childhood, but Draco Malfoy was sure that his father had loved him before the Dark Lord had fallen. However, it didn't take him long to notice how distant Lucius was with him. His mother still fussed over Draco, but Lucius wasn't like the other fathers. Draco assumed it was because he was a Malfoy, and Malfoys are proud men. His great-grandfather, Adalrico Malfoy, performed the Cruciatus Curse on his best friend over a rather horrifying joke about his hair– yes, Malfoys were proud.

Lucius was not only distant; he wanted to make his son suffer, but the suffering wasn't physical or even spiteful, just instructive. Draco's first foggy memory was of Lucius holding a toy over his head while he cried and reached for it. Lucius would only give the toy back after Draco would stop begging and sobbing. That was Draco's first lesson: never beg, never cry.

He grew up in their country estate, a slightly smaller residence that belonged to his Mother. It wasn't until he was nine or ten that they moved back to Malfoy Manor. He had liked the country estate, as opposed to the dark Manor. Those years of his childhood were spent with few of his father's friend's sons as playmates. His favourites were Theodore, Vincent, and Gregory. Early on, it became very apparent that he would decide which games they played and what they would do for the day while their father's talked in another room.

Draco recalled standing at the gates of the Malfoy Manor when the Malfoys returned from what Narcissa would only refer to as "exile". Life seemed to stop beyond those gates. The roofs of the Manor arched upward into the darkening depths of the sky above. The windows were steely, murky– not unlike a Malfoy's eyes. It reminded Draco of a crooked black tree at the country place. Its limbs reached out sporadically and it was the only tree not to sway with the forest. On the third day of their exile, Narcissa ordered the "bestial thing" to be removed from her sight. Draco looked up to Lucius who simply scanned the Manor and approached it. He never realized what he felt when he walked toward his new home, and he never liked to think of it either. He had just needed someone to hold his hand.

Mr Malfoy sat down for breakfast on the early August 11 years later. It was breakfast time when an owl arrived...

HOGWARTS SCHOOL

_of_ WITCHCRAFT_ and _WIZARDRY

Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore

_(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock, Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. Of Wizards.)_

Dear Mr. Malfoy,

We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment.

Term begins on September 1. We await your owl by no later than July 31.

Yours sincerely,

_Minerva McGonagall, _Deputy Headmistress

"Albus _Dumbledore_." Lucius sneered as he tossed the letter aside with disgust. "Merlin, that man has the wit of a candlestick." Draco stared at his father impatiently. "Now I hear that that _Muggle lover_ has all sorts of giant savages and squibs working up at that mad house..."

"All of the Malfoys and Blacks have gone to Hogwarts, Lucius," Narcissa said evenly, her eyes resting slowly on her husband. Lucius didn't answer her. He went back to reading _The Daily Prophet_. Narcissa went back to her breakfast. Draco looked between them with some hope.

"_Cissy_, we can't have him be taught by a fool. You think I don't hold any regard for tradition?" he muttered. "We have more connections at Durmstrang; they actually teach the students _useful_ things." Draco's mother didn't batter an eyelash as her eyes rested upon her husband across the table.

"Durmstrang is too far away. We'll never get to see him," she purred as her eyes drifted to Draco and back to Lucius. "What kind of father wants to ship his son away to be tied to glaciers?"

Lucius kept his facial expression locked in stone.

--------

"Hello," Draco said as he admired his long black robes in the mirror. "Hogwarts, too?" He was speaking to the frail looking boy who had just come in. The boy was incredibly ordinary– glasses, messy hair, and very skinny. The boy hesitated.

"Yes," he finally said with some uncertainty. There was a quiet between them for a while. Draco grew bored.

"My father," he drawled, "is next door buying my books and mother's up the street looking for wands." Draco adjusted his robe as he turned to look at himself. The boy still looked nervous as Madam Malkin pinned the robe to his thin body. "Then I'm going to drag them off to look at racing brooms. I don't see why first years can't have their own. I think I'll bully father into getting me one and I'll smuggle it in somewhere," Draco mused pleasantly as he looked at the boy from the corner of his eye.

The boy grimaced, as if reminded of some forgotten errand he should have run.

"Have _you_ got a broom?" Draco said, now annoyed that the boy was so terribly dull.

"No," said the boy with a gulp.

"Play Quidditch at all?" Draco said, growing more irritated.

"No," the boy said once more and pushed his glasses up from slipping down his nose.

"_I_ do– Father says it's a crime if I'm not picked to play for my house, and I must say, I agree. Know which house you'll be in yet?" Draco, although annoyed that the boy was not more interesting than a piece of parchment, was also used to very uninteresting friends he could easily manipulate. This boy seemed to have potential.

"No," the boy said with a more disappointed grumble.

"Well, no one really knows until they get there, do they?" Draco said, trying to make the boy feel a little better. "But I know I'll be in Slytherin, all our family have been. Imagine being in Hufflepuff, I think I'd leave, wouldn't you?"

"Mmm," said the extremely dull boy. Draco was about to give up altogether until he noticed something outside the store window.

"I say, look at that man!" he hissed, nodding to the front window.

"That's Hagrid." The boy finally lit up. "He works at Hogwarts."

"Oh," muttered Draco, "I've heard of him. He's a sort of servant isn't he?"

"He's the gamekeeper," said the boy, now in a more annoyed tone.

"Yes, exactly. I heard he's a sort of _savage_– lives in a hut on the school grounds and every now and then he gets drunk, tries to do magic, and ends up setting fire to his bed!" Draco chuckled.

"I think he's brilliant," the boy said coldly.

"_Do_ you?" Draco said with a slight sneer. "Why is he with you? Where are your parents?"

"They're dead."

"Oh sorry, but they were _our_ kind, weren't they?"

"They were witch and wizard if that's what you mean." The boy shot an irritated look at Draco at his mirror reflection.

"I really don't think they should let the other sort in, do you? They're just not the same, they've never been brought up to know our ways. Some of them have never even heard of Hogwarts until they get the letter, imagine. I think they should keep it to the old Wizarding families. What's your surname, anyway?"

"That's you done, dear," Madam Malkin announced.

"Well, I'll see you at Hogwarts, I suppose." Draco bit his lip. The boy waved and left to meet the giant. Draco didn't think much of the boy. He didn't care if he ever saw him again for that matter.

Eventually he did try to bully his father into buying a racing broom, which resulted in a cold glare.

"Isn't there some sort of rule...?" Lucius was paying more attention to a nearby sweets stand than to Draco.

"Father, I'm sure that most of the first years will have one anyway!" Draco whined.

"What is he trying to get?" Narcissa asked, stepping out of the shadows of an alley that led from Knockturn Alley with arms full of bags and joined them.

"Where is Dobby? He should be carrying those," Lucius barked. Draco tuned out the rest of the conversation as he thought of ways to get his hands on that new Nimbus Two Thousand.

"One last stop," his mother announced in an annoyed tone.

"What now?" Lucius said, his bark growing weary. .

"He has to have an owl. How do you expect him to write us?"

"I don't expect him to write us, Narcissa," Lucius said under his breath.

"You will, won't you, precious?" his mother said sweetly.

Draco, echoing the annoyed presence of his father, glanced up at her from the ever furthering Nimbus Two Thousand display.

"I'd rather have a racing broom than some bloody pigeon," Draco's eyes narrowed as he kicked a loosened bit of pavement. They went to the Magical Menagerie.

--------

_ Special thanks to my three incredibly amazing betas: Cyanide Blue, Naycit, and Sha. I can't even begin to imagine this story without them. Also thanks to Matt, Shauna, Meli, and Shawna for reading, listening, and suggesting. If you'd like to view this story's live status and it'sWIP chapter outline, visit my website._


	2. The Hogwarts Express

1.**_ The Hogwarts Express and Other Disappointments_**

Lucius Malfoy did not have an excuse to miss this momentous occasion of his son going off to learn mediocre magic at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. He probably would have blamed it on work, if he actually had a job in the first place. Lucius didn't have a job per se, he had duties though, duties and influence– oh yes, and he had money. Money in the Muggle or Wizarding worlds meant power, and as everyone knows, people in power do not work. So Lucius was rather inconvenienced into seeing his son off to what Narcissa thought was her doing. The actual reasons that Draco ended up at Hogwarts were complicated and based on flimsy whispers of whispers of rumors that were too devious to be discussed at the dinner table, to be put politely.

"Now, don't forget to write," Narcissa said smoothly as she gestured to Draco's speckled, eagle owl that lazily squawked and eyed Draco maliciously. Draco looked down at it with the same distaste his father used.

The owl was named Thalion. His talons were extremely sharp, as Draco had learned the day they bought him. He had decided that the owl needed to get a better view of the Manor, so he had hung the owl upside down by its feet over one of their highest balconies. This was mostly to anger his mother, who had refused to buy him a Nimbus Two Thousand, and also to torment the bird. As it turned out, Thalion didn't appreciate this at all. The owl didn't come down from the roof for three days after he had escaped and managed to gash Draco's face. The disgusting beast also left Draco an unpleasant present in his bed, and no, it wasn't a dead rat.

"And do exactly what Professor Snape tells you," Narcissa said as she fixed Draco's robes.

Draco's hair was slicked back. His fair, translucent complexion appeared queer against the sharp black of his school robes. His features were pointed, not unlike his mother's. His eyes were nearly the same smarting silver as his father's. Draco wasn't the most handsome boy, but he certainly was so unusual looking that it had a becoming appeal for him.

"Mother!" Draco yanked away from his mother.

King's Cross was becoming very busy. The three Malfoys were a sight to see in the crowded, screeching station. The more ecstatic and boisterous the people around them became, the calmer they walked and the more nauseous they got. Muggle children ran everywhere, and the guardsman kept one suspicious eye on the blonde bunch; they certainly were a spectacle to behold.

Lucius sported a serpent-headed, black cane. His dress robes were black moleskin, trimmed with charcoal silk. His serpentine hair was pulled back with a silvery ribbon. He walked in long, patient strides along side Narcissa, who was also wearing black velvety robes trimmed with a sharp feminine green. Dobby, the house elf, invisibly skirted around her feet; he was less prone to get caned in the eye there.

They passed through platform nine-and-three-quarters sleekly. Draco immediately saw Blaise Zabini and waved him over. Zabini smiled solemnly at Draco, and they shook hands. Narcissa was double checking Draco's things, and Lucius had rushed off to talk to Theodore's father, Korvin Nott.

"Have you seen anyone else?" Draco said as he measured Zabini with his eyes; Blaise had grown a lot taller since he had last seen him.

"Only Adrian and Adarin Pucey," Blaise said calmly. "So did you get it?"

"No," Draco sighed, disappointed. "Mother kept butting in every time I tried to talk to

Father about it. What about you?" Draco said with some jealousy. Theodore joined them from the group of fathers that were congregating around Lucius Malfoy.

"Did you hear?" Theodore asked Draco, who in turn snorted.

"Of course I did," Draco quickly lied.

"Hear what?" Zabini said with the same feline interest.

"I overheard Father talking, and you'll never guess–" Theodore Nott tensed up and smiled slowly as a hand landed on his shoulder.

"Nott." Marcus Flint, a caveman of a boy grinned down at Theodore. Nott smiled uneasily.

"First years," Flint sighed as his eyes flitted from Nott and Zabini to Draco. "Malfoy, I don't think we've had the pleasure." Flint stuck out his hand. Draco grinned and took it. "Flint, Marcus," he said as his grip tightened. "I'm sure you've heard of the Flints. My father, Vito Flint…" Flint let the name linger. "…is a friend of the Ministry."

"Of course," Draco said.

"I'm also up for the Quidditch team captain this year. If you play your cards right, you might end up on the team, Malfoy. I hear you're a good Keeper–"

"Boys, I do believe you should get a good seat on the train," said a deep voice.

It was Mr Zabini; he hugged Blaise.

"Narcissa, how nice to see you again," Zabini senior said while flashing a smile. Draco's mother flushed.

"You too, Zama," she said and turned to Draco. "Now–"

"Yes, I know," he said, now even more irritable since they were in front of his friends. Narcissa showed a rare and almost strained smile. "Have fun and work hard."

Draco faced his father, whose interest seemed to take a turn for the worse. Draco had at least expected an uncomfortable hug, but Lucius stuck his hand out. Draco shook his father's hand like if he was departing from a little known acquaintance.

"Don't get into too much trouble," Lucius said with a small smile and his famous arched eyebrow.

"Yes, sir."

They loaded on to the train. He met Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle as he was lugging his trunk. They looked more dumbstruck than usual.

"Where have you two been?" Draco sighed when he ran into them. Although he definitely enjoyed the new politics Hogwarts was opening him to, he felt better seeing the familiar, if not blockheaded faces of Crabbe and Goyle.

"Have you heard!" Crabbe, the quietest of the trio, whispered to Draco. Draco eyed a group of first years who were surrounded by a boy with dread locks and a huge grin. There were more students congregating to see what the boy had in a large box.

"No, no, I can't," the boy with dread locks said with a mischievous grin to a first year.

Crabbe slid the glass compartment open. It was at the front of the train and the platform was crowded of first and second years trying to find empty compartments. Goyle grabbed Draco's trunk and pulled it in.

"Heard what!" Draco grouched, red-faced. Crabbe shut the glass compartment behind him. Draco scanned the large compartment as Goyle loaded his trunk. Nott knocked on the

compartment and Crabbe rolled his eyes, letting him in.

"Longbottom…" Nott grinned feverishly. "…lost his toad, Malfoy. Have you seen it?" Nott then reached into his robes and retrieved a slimy, fat toad. Draco clucked his tongue as Nott plopped down beside him on the seat, holding the amphibian.

"Longbottom, eh?" Malfoy mused as he eyed the toad. "I have a feeling he has lost a little more than his toad." Crabbe and Goyle laughed darkly.

Draco reached up into his trunk and pulled a small, untitled book out of it and began thumbing through it. He showed Nott a picture of a man being decapitated in several different ways. Nott acknowledged the book, but was too concerned with prodding the toad with his wand.

"Yeah," Goyle, the bigger of the dumber of blockheads grunted and eyed Crabbe.

"By the way, Longbottom is trailing behind this horrendous looking cow and she's saying that..." Nott paused and caught Draco's eye. _"Harry Potter is in the last compartment." _

"So it's really true?" Crabbe asked.

"Savior of the Wizarding world, Harry Potter?" Draco let out a boisterous laugh.

"Harry Potter." The glass door slid open. "I can't step into one bloody compartment without hearing about him." Blaise Zabini shut the door after he entered.

"What does he look like?" Nott asked, attempting to veil his excitement with a look of casual interest. Zabini gave a questioning glance to the toad Nott was prodding but decided better not to ask.

"Well," Blaise said as he eyed Goyle, and then sat in the space beside him. "I didn't see him, but Longbottom said he was pretty ordinary. Black hair, glasses, skinny..." Blaise grinned at Draco who looked slightly dumbfounded.

"No way!" Draco gushed. "I think I saw him at Madam Malkin's. Incredibly dull fellow..."

The foursome eyed him inquisitively

"Come on, boys," Draco said to Crabbe and Goyle. "We should definitely throw Prince Potter a welcoming parade."

They arrived at the last compartment and opened the door. There was the boy from Madam Malkin's with a red-headed, delirious-looking boy who had a dirty face. Draco squinted at the Potter boy.

"Is it true?" Draco said, crossing his arms. "They're saying all down the train that Harry Potter's in this compartment. So it's you, is it?"

"Yes," said the boy. He adjusted his glasses.

"Oh, this is Crabbe and this is Goyle." Draco tossed his hand to the two boys behind him. "And my name's Malfoy, Draco Malfoy."

The wretched red-headed boy choked on a giggle at Draco. Draco turned to the redhead and focused on him, measuring him from wand to robe.

"Think my name's funny, do you?" Malfoy asked, his eyes narrowing. "No need to ask who you are. My father told me all the Weasleys have red hair, freckles, and more children than they can afford." Draco turned back to Harry. "You'll soon find that some Wizarding families are

much better than others, Potter. You don't want to go making friends with the wrong sort. I can help you there."

Draco, like he had done so many other times to other boys, held out his hand to Harry Potter; but Harry Potter didn't take it. Harry's large, green eyes seemed to be magnified by his glasses as he stared at Draco Malfoy. Even in Madam Malkin's, this boy, this Harry Potter hadn't given Draco his full attention. Now it almost unnerved Draco, the way Harry was looking at him.

"I think I can tell who the wrong sort are for myself, thanks," Harry said to Draco.

Draco blinked, unable to even recollect his thoughts. This wasn't supposed to happen, this never happened. What had he done wrong? Why didn't Harry Potter like him? Why, was Harry Potter so above even for a _Malfoy_! Harry Potter had just humiliated Draco Malfoy in front of his two best friends and a bloody Weasley.

"I'd be careful if I were you, Potter," Draco said as he gathered his thoughts back. "Unless you're a bit politer, you'll go the same way as your parents. They didn't know what was good for them either. You hang around with riffraff like the Weasleys and that Hagrid, and it'll rub off on you too."

Weasley and Potter stood, as if preparing for battle.

_Oh, they're so touchy when _they're_ insulted, aren't they?_ Draco mused.

"Say that again," the Weasley spouted.

"Oh, you're going to fight us, are you?" Malfoy snorted.

"Unless you get out of here now," said Potter.

_His bark is bad for someone who seems to mope around all the time, _thought Draco.

"But we don't feel like leaving, do we boys? We've eaten all our food and you still seem to have some." Draco eyed a heaping pile of goodies in the middle of the compartment.

Goyle reached toward a chocolate frog. The Weasley, looking half insane, jumped forwards. Goyle yelped. A large rat was hanging from his hand. Goyle wailed around, violently tossing the rat, until finally it slammed against the window of the train.

Draco, utterly scandalized, left immediately and the other boys followed.

"You're a complete, incompetent, idiot– you know that, right?" Draco screeched at Goyle, who was cradling his hand and sobbing.

"How was I supposed to know a rat was going to fly out of thin air and mutilate me!" Goyle said, holding his bloody hand up to show Draco. They were rushing back to the front of the train.

"Rats don't fly out of thin air and mutilate people," Crabbe said; he looked angry as well.

"Obviously they _do!_" Goyle seethed. Draco, who was growing increasingly fond of a giant rat army eating Potter's head off, told Goyle to go with Crabbe and get some first aid magic. He watched them head off in the other direction as Goyle insisted that the rat had not been there.

"What happened?" an alert but soft voice uttered from behind him. Draco turned around to see a small girl with elfish features eying him.

"Er... rat incident," Draco muttered and looked at the rest of her compartment. It was a gang of giggling girls, all staring at him. The girl crossed her arms and leaned against the side of the doorway.

"Oh," she said with a sheepish grin. Her eyes were deep brown and sharp. Her nose was button and all her features scaled her small size. Her hair was worn short and kept blacker than any moonless night. "Did you hear? Harry Potter is–"

"Oh yes, I've heard all about Harry Potter," Draco said, his anger coming back to him.

"Well, I was going to go sneak a look at him," the girl said with another tempting smile, "My friend Pavarti said he seems like a near perfect angel, does he?"

Draco snorted.

"Oh yes, Saint Potter." Draco couldn't help but notice the girls losing interest but still keeping an eye on him. "I'm sorry, you're–"

"Pansy," the girl said quickly. "My name is Pansy Parkinson." Pansy tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear. The name sounded familiar to Draco; maybe her parents were friends of the family.

"I'm–" But Draco couldn't finish because someone interrupted him.

"Excuse me," a large dark skinned boy said. He was traveling with six companions.

"I guess I'll see you at Hogwarts," Draco said to Pansy and then eyed the dark skinned boy again.

"It looks like it." She sighed, waved, and turned and shut the compartment. Draco turned back once more to look at her as he traveled down the aisle. She was giggling about God knows what with the chamber of girls.

When the train finally slammed to a halt, Draco was the first to get off followed by Nott and Blaise. Crabbe and Goyle had been long lost once more.

_Honestly, this is the second time I've lost them. I'll have to tie chains around their necks here._ Draco sighed as he thought this.

It was very dark outside, and the first thing Draco heard was a booming voice.

"Firs' years! Firs' years over here! Firs' years!" It was that giant, that Hagrid of Harry's. "Firs' years follow me!"

"Oh, good Lord," Draco said in disbelief at the giant.

"Oh, good Lord," Blaise echoed. "Almost makes you miss Muggle London."

"No, Blaise, there is nothing that will make me miss Muggle London," Nott said as he hopped from the train.

"Are we really supposed to follow him?" Zabini said suspiciously. "He might just be waiting to lure innocent children to his hut to crush our bones and eat us with marmalade."

"Naw, Father says a giant works here... Plus, I've seen him before."

The other Hogwarts students were piling out of the train, and the first years were congregating around Hagrid.

"You? Innocent?" Draco heard Nott snort at Zabini.

They traveled down a long a slippery trail. Branches scraped against their faces and robes. Draco moaned about the dark and a bushy-haired first year emitted light from her wand.

"Better?" she said, and smiled toward Draco and his friends. A blue glow radiated to the small circle. Draco eyed her.

"Yeah, thanks," he said as he watched her carefully.

"Yeh'll get yer firs' sight o' Hogwarts in a sec," the great oaf said. "Jus' round this bend here."

A sudden burst of "Oooh" was heard from the crowd of first years. Draco, though used to splendor, was also slightly taken back.

Across a giant ink-black lake laid a large castle underneath the glimmering stars. Gigantic towers jutted out of the earth in great gothic spirals. The arches that connected the towers were laced with intricate designs and detailed gargoyles rested on their eves.

Draco let his eyes trail to the boats.

"We're not riding those, are we?" Draco said in horror.

"No more'n four to a boat!" the hairy moron bellowed.

Draco glowered at Potter and the Weasley. Crabbe and Goyle had appeared from within the crowd. Draco would either ride with Nott and Zabini or with Crabbe and Goyle. Judging by the way Crabbe and Goyle's rickety boat was almost level with the lake, he picked Nott and Zabini.

"Everyone in?" shouted Hagrid. Suddenly, it looked as if something were under the surface of the lake. Draco thought he might be sick.

"You okay?" Nott asked.

"Mhm," he breathed, keeping an eye on the lake. The giant yelled once more.

"Right then– FORWARD."


	3. Gryffindor is for Heros

1. **_Gryffindor is for Heros_**

"Welcome to Hogwarts," a green clad witch said to them sternly. She bore a sharp look to all of them, not that welcoming, actually.

Crabbe and Goyle stood around Draco. He stood, trying to look more bored than excited. A sudden fear kicked into his stomach as the woman prattled on about the four houses. His hopes seemed to sink. What if he didn't get into Slytherin? No, he pushed those thoughts aside. He had to be confident that he'd get in. Confidence was, above everything else, the key.

He could feel a slight cloud of nervousness around his comrades. He tried to keep his mind stable; instead, he attempted to find the girl from the train. His thoughts kept drifting to her; her brown eyes, and curled smile. He felt himself blushing.

"I shall return when we are ready for you," the professor announced. Draco slicked his hair back.

"Nervous, Malfoy?" Crabbe asked with a dull smile.

"No, it's Draco." Draco smirked at Crabbe who looked puzzled. He knew what he was up for; it would be a breeze. Draco looked around the crowd, everyone seemed terrified. The bushy- haired girl who had emitted light for them on the trail was now rapidly repeating spells she knew under her breath.

_Oh, Ravenclaw for sure,_ Draco thought.

After they had been rudely interrupted by some rather displeasing ghosts, the green-clad professor came back and made them form a line.

A pair of large twin doors opened to reveal the Great Hall. The Great Hall was a misleading name for a room that was vast with several bewitchments Draco had already seen. He was highly disappointed. He gulped, everyone was at their tables... their housed tables. He eyed the Slytherins in envy. They'd already done this, they already knew. He also knew that he was expected to be a Slytherin... The teachers were all sat on a large table in front of the Hall. On a stool rested a worn Wizard's hat. The students whispered and cheered. Draco noticed they were all looking at one person who had just entered. No, it wasn't _the_ Lucius Malfoy's son.

IT WAS THAT INSUFFERABLE POTTER.

When they all filed in, everyone directed their attention to the hat, which sat dormant for a few seconds then, unexpectedly, belted a song. One of the most ridiculous things he had ever seen.

"_Oh you may not think me pretty,  
but don't judge on what you see,  
I'll eat myself if you can find  
a smarter hat than me.  
You can keep your bowlers black,  
your top hats sleek and tall,  
for I'm the Hogwarts Sorting Hat  
and I can cap them all. There's nothing hidden in your head  
the Sorting Hat can't see,  
so try me on and I will tell you  
where you ought to be.  
"You might belong in Gryffindor  
where dwell the brave at heart,  
their daring, nerve, and chivalry  
set Gryffindors apart;  
you might belong in Hufflepuff**,  
**where they are just and loyal,  
those patient Hufflepuffs are true  
and unafraid of toil;  
or yet in wise old Ravenclaw,  
if you've a ready mind,  
where those of wit and learning,  
will always find their kind;  
or perhaps in Slytherin  
you'll make your real friends,  
those cunning folks use any means  
to achieve their ends. _

"So put me on! Don't be afraid!  
And don't get in a flap!  
You're in safe hands (though I have none)  
for I'm a Thinking Cap!"

The whole Hall burst into clapping. The professors looked mildly amused. Crabbe and Goyle were some of the first housed Slytherins. Draco felt much better after that. After more uninteresting sortings (although the bushy-haired girl had surprisingly gotten Gryffindor), it was finally his turn. He strutted up to the hat, allowing everyone to look at him. Yes, yes, he was a Malfoy. He gave a suave smile and plopped the hat on his head.

"Want Slytherin do you? Yes, I see your desire. And a Malfoy?" a voice whispered into his ear.

_Yes_, Draco thought.

"SLYTHERIN!" the hat screamed. Draco looked up at the Great Hall with new light. He _did _belong in Slytherin, he really did. He went to join Crabbe and Goyle who were sitting next to Marcus Flint at the table. They congratulated him and he smiled as he watched a boy named Henry Moon get sorted into Slytherin too. Draco looked at Henry Moon as he joined a few older Slytherins at the table. Henry was a tall boy with sandy-blonde hair and murky eyes. He slouched when he walked, his hair brushing into his eyes. His strides were quick and to the point. Then Nott got Slytherin as well. That was two more for Slytherin, the table with the least amount of people.

"Parkinson," the professor later announced. Draco's ears perked.

The girl he had met on the train emerged from the crowd.

"Parkinson?" Goyle questioned, eyeing the girl. They had obviously been guessing who was going to get which house before Draco had settled down.

"A family of pure-bloods," Nott said. "They're pretty wealthy because of some market they own." He shrugged. "Something to do with magical quills."

_That was it,_ Draco though, _Parkinson Wizarding Quills_. He watched as she blushed and let the hat set on top of her had. Somewhere in him he hoped–

"SLYTHERIN!" the Sorting Hat yelped. Draco grinned as she got up and joined them. Her soft hair curled around her delicate features.

She joined a very large Slytherin girl at the end of the table.

"Potter, Harry!" Draco's eyes stopped following Parkinson and they glanced back up at that same feeble boy he had met in Madam Malkin's. He sneered, definitely not a Slytherin. He heard people whispering.

"_The_ Harry Potter?" Obviously they hadn't gotten the owl.

Potter put the hat on his head, he looked rather constipated.

"20 Galleons he gets Hufflepuff," Draco sneered to Crabbe who snorted.

"GRYFFINDOR!" the hat finally shouted. The whole Hall had been on the edge of their seats.

_Oh, of course, he's a hero,_ Draco thought angrily.


End file.
